The Jewels of the Madonna
By hilary west
- 837 reads
Donna struggled with her shopping; she was eight and a half months pregnant now, so it wouldn't be long. Snow drifted down and covered her fur fabric coat. At least now in this condition she didn't have to go out and earn a living on the patch. Danny, her pimp, couldn't push a heavily pregnant woman in any circumstance. He was fuming she'd gone ahead with it, but what could he do. It was her decision. He just wanted it to all be over and he could start earning again. There would always be some young girl to look after the baby: that was the business.
The snow got worse and soon she saw the twinkling lights on the town's Christmas tree. Beneath the tree was a huddled figure in what looked like rags. Donna felt some emotion for at least she could go back to a warm basement flat. This poor wretch would surely freeze to death. Nobody seemed to notice him, but Donna's heart was bursting. I must do somehting, she thought to herself. She bent down over the bundle of rags and suggested he come back to the flat with her.
The old man's face lit up, but then he gave a nod in the direction of the old bridge by the river and a whole host of figures started walking towards them. There must have been about twenty of them altogether.
'Oh, no,' said Donna 'I can't take you all in.' 'Leave us here then', the old man said. Donna was taken aback. She felt in her pockets for some money. She only had two pound coins left. 'Go and get a hot cup of tea,' she said. But on seeing the crowd of people just wanted to get away. This isn't right, she thought. Does nobody care? Truth was, some did, but did they care enough when they had everything and these poor people had nothing.
Back at home that night Donna thought there must be something she could do, but what? Her mother had died last year and left her some jewellery. Its value must represent a decent amount. She knew of the Salvation Army and knew they sometimes helped street people. She decided then and there she would sell the jewels and donate the money to the Army. Maybe then these poor people would get a place inside for Christmas.
The next day she took the jewels, which she really prized by the way, so it was not easy for her, to the pawn shop. But more important than jewels was a human life. Those people could die outside in this weather.
Mr Hawkins was a fair man in the pawn shop. He gave her seven hundred and fifty pounds; mainly because she had a very nice diamond ring and a sapphire on a gold chain. She also had a gold bracelet and an opaline necklace. She would miss them she knew, but lives were more important than baubles.
On her way back home a Salvation Army band was playing carols by the superstore. She handed over the money she had just obtained and told them of the poor people she had met. ''Oh, don't worry' they said, 'we'll make sure they benefit from this wonderful gift.'
Christmas Eve came and Donna felt warm inside because she'd heard all the homeless in the town were now in Salvation Army accommodation somewhere in Britain and were being taken care of. They even had back to work schemes for the younger people. They knew best how to spend Donna's money.
Donna had been having an occasional pain all day, but now it was getting much worse. She knew it was her time. She rang Danny and in no time she was at the hospital. That night was difficult but by Christmas morning she was sat in the maternity ward with a new bouncing baby. All had gone well. And then at the bottom of the bed was a box of presents for her baby, delivered not just by the Salvation Army, but by all the homeless come to see her.
They stood at the bottom of the bed singing all of Donna's favourite carols. Donna felt so good, but the important thing was she had not failed God and God had certainly not failed her. She called the baby Geoffrey, which means 'gift of God', and had decided in her heart it was time to leave her profession and become a decent mother.
Donna had bought her freedom with the jewels of the Madonna.
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Comments
What a compassionate story
What a compassionate story Hilary. I'm sure there are people out there that would do the same thing. It's nice to be kind and respectful of those less fortunate. I thought that this was a wonderful Christmas story.
Jenny.
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